Chapter 227

Evelyn didn’t think she cared about Alexander giving roses to other women. She just wasn’t ready to accept it.

Alexander’s car drove straight ahead, the road growing quieter as they moved further from the city.

To avoid detection, Sebastian kept a careful distance, trailing far behind.

After nearly twenty minutes, Evelyn saw Alexander’s car come to a stop.

But the place he had chosen left both her and Sebastian stunned.

A cemetery?

Alexander had come to a cemetery.

Why would he bring roses here?

This was the same cemetery where she had buried her grandfather and her first child. The same place where he had coldly destroyed their unborn baby right before her eyes.

A sharp tremor ran through Evelyn’s heart. The memory of that snowy day flooded back, the biting cold seeping into her bones all over again.

She would never forget the desperation in her voice as she begged him. Yet he had ignored her pleas, her tears, shattering her heart piece by piece. And in the end, he had let Victoria disfigure her without a second thought.

"Do you want to follow him inside?" Sebastian asked.

Evelyn snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head. "There are too few people here. If I go in, he’ll notice immediately."

"Then we wait?"

Evelyn fell silent.

Did she want to wait?

But what was she waiting for?

The cemetery was vast, and Alexander’s figure had already disappeared among the tombstones.

What could she possibly gain from sitting here?

"Your hands are freezing." Sebastian took her hands in his again. "Are you thinking about the past?"

His voice was soft, warm, like a gentle balm over her wounded heart.

When Evelyn didn’t respond, Sebastian’s lips curved slightly. His fingers brushed the hair away from her face.

"Don’t worry. You have me."

Inside the cemetery, Alexander walked along the familiar path, a bouquet of eighty-eight red roses in his hands.

He stopped before a tombstone, his fingers tracing the engraved name as if he could still feel her presence in the cold stone.

But the chill beneath his fingertips reminded him—this was nothing but an illusion.

Alexander set the roses down and lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly as he sat on the stone bench nearby. The smoke curled into the air, blurring the tombstone before him.

Memories surfaced—the day he had accused Evelyn of conspiring with Dominic to kidnap Ethan. The way he had shoved her away, heartless and cruel.

The rain had been relentless that day.

Now, looking back, he realized she had already been sick. Her body must have been in agony.

She had begged him, "Alexander, believe me."

She had cried, "Alexander Blackwood, why can’t you just trust me once? Just once!"

And in the end, he had crushed every last shred of hope in her eyes.

He had seen her in the rearview mirror that day—pale, broken, sitting in the rain like a discarded doll.

His heart had ached then, but he had mistaken that pain for concern over Victoria. He had never realized it was Evelyn who had torn him apart.

A sharp sting from the cigarette snapped him back to the present.

He let it burn between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the tombstone. A bitter smile tugged at his lips.

"I regret it. Do you hear me?"

His throat tightened, his eyes burning.

He had never imagined that after Evelyn’s death, he would spend every sleepless night haunted by her. That he would think of her, miss her, ache for her.

Slowly, he stood and crouched before the tombstone. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small velvet box—dark blue, elegant.

When he opened it, the diamond inside caught the sunlight, casting a brilliant shimmer.

"Do you like it?" He smiled faintly. "I designed it for you."

A pause.

"She looks like you. I kept seeing you in her. But not anymore. You are you. She is her."

With that, he carefully tucked the box into the crevice beside the tombstone.

"Linnie… Can I call you that from now on?"

The only answer was the rustling of leaves as the wind swept through the cemetery.